Shrugging, I adjusted my attire, tightened my belt, slightly tugged the sleeves of my gambeson, then squatted a couple of times before hopping. The chainmail did not make a sound, which was good. All the passengers of the "Free Wind" who were still awake at this time were watching my actions with bafflement. But since I didn't reach for my spear, which was still on the weapon rack, none of them expressed any concern. Giving them a peaceful smile, I flung open the entrance and left the passenger tent. At the very first step, I bumped into the boatswain. This large man, almost as tall as me but one and a half times bulkier, stared at me in surprise. And one could understand him: passengers probably don't often walk around the deck of his trading vessel in full armor, especially when the ship is far from any shore. His name, if I remember correctly, was Shoush Sau.
"New armor," I explained. "I need to break it in, get used to it."
If I were at Steel, he might have been on guard, but I am only Iron. On board the "Free Wind," as far as I have been able to find out, there were three Bronze warriors and a captain who had reached full Steel. No matter what I had in mind, I physically wouldn't pose a serious threat to them.
"I have no objections, sir," the boatswain replied with a formal bow and let me pass.
"May I sit at the bow of the ship and meditate?" I asked for permission.
"I will accompany you," Shoush nodded.
I understand his slight concern. I slept all day, and now it's late at night. The deck is barely illuminated by the light of the distant Seguna, which occasionally peeks out from behind thick clouds, and, staggering around unattended, I could fall and damage some goods. In principle, I could have continued sleeping, but I decided not to waste time and practice Basic Cross and Illusions. Moreover, it's easier to meditate at night to the sound of waves and the gentle rustling of the rigging.
Having led me to the bow of the junk, the boatswain stood next to me for a minute, but after confirming that I was going to meditate, he left me alone. Almost two days without sleep took their toll, and as soon as the "Free Wind" left the bay of Unudo, I passed out and slept for more than fourteen hours straight. After that, I had a bite to eat and put on my gear.
Getting used to the armor is a must. Fighting in and without it are two completely different types of combat. My "memories of the future" told me so, and I had no intention of ignoring this hint, planning to wear the entire outfit constantly, as far as it was possible. And not just walk in it but also meditate. This is also an important practice, as the metal of the chainmail interferes with the flow of Magic while not hindering the winds of the Spirit, creating dissonance when using spells and special attacks. In the case of my chainmail, which doesn't even cover the elbows, this dissonance is minimal, but it still exists, and it's better to get used to it.
Sitting in the lotus position, I straightened my back and looked up at the sky. I found Seguna, assessed its position relative to the horizon, and estimated that it was about midnight. If I remember Ender's map and the "Free Wind" route correctly, in about six hours, we will pass only ten miles from the island of Quad. I wondered whether to ask Lil Rou to slightly alter the course to visit this island. But I concluded that it would be futile. First, the junk is loaded to the brim; second, I am not the only passenger. And third, I do not have enough money to make the captain overlook the first two points.
A shame. There are two Iron dungeons on Quad, one of which I could have tried to "steal." But the main thing is not this, but the fact that according to my mentor, the true altar of Seguna is on this island! And from the sheriff's words, I know precisely where this altar of Shadows is hidden. The only thing that stopped me from asking was the full realization that the captain would refuse me.
Pushing the resentment over life's injustice out of my head, I delved into meditation. As I anticipated, the sound of waves and the creaking of rigging helped me relax. At first, because of the chainmail on my shoulders, I had trouble maintaining even one aura, but when I understood what corrections needed to be made for the flow of Magic and the wind of the Spirit, things immediately got moving. And later, it went even smoother.
In the early morning, when the dense mist had approached so close to the bow of the junk that I couldn't even see the waves below, I managed to sustain two auras and a couple of images moving by the power of Illusion on my palms.
Inhaling the thick salty air, I nearly choked. Something was wrong!
The mist!
The mist had its barely noticeable scent. It smelled like vanilla. I jumped to my feet, intending to yell, but I was too late.
"Alarm!" the boatswain shouted and struck the ship's bell. "Pirates!"
Pirates? Where? However, I was already considering this thought as I rushed into the passenger tent. The sharp sound of the ship's bell quickly woke everyone up. And just as I pulled back the tent flap, I had to dodge a small fireball.
"Ally!" I yelled at the not-yet-fully-awake bronze mage, a fellow passenger like me, who was already prepared to cast the spell again. "Stand behind me! I'll cover you!"
Two steps - and I'm at my resting spot. I grab my spear from the rack, swiftly remove its cover, and leave the tent. Taking two more steps forward, I freeze. The mage stands up behind me; out of the corner of my eye, I can see his hands shaking.
"The mist." He whispered. "This is the alchemy of the precious Coil! We are doomed!"
"Hold it together!" I snapped at him. "And sell your life dearly!"
But apparently, not only this mage understood the trouble the "Free Wind" had gotten into. Almost the entire crew dropped everything, and the sailors were tritely jumping overboard, hoping to find their escape in the sea. Next to me, by the passenger tent, only three officers, including the captain, and five sailors took their stand. Even my hands started to tremble when a light impact passed through my legs.
"That was smooth," the boatswain hemmed, shifting his boarding saber into a defensive position.
"What?" The first mate didn't understand him.
"I'm saying they're taking us gently. The mooring while moving was done perfectly. And that's without grappling hooks!" Shoush explained to him.
The mist was so thick that we couldn't see which ship was attacking our junk. The air seemed filled with tension so much that it could be scooped with a spoon, when a tall shadow emerged ahead.
"I don't need your ship," words came from the thick haze.
"What do you want then?!" Shouted Lil Rou in response.
"I want to invite one of your passengers to be my guest, Master Rou," the voice from the mist barely concealed its amusement.
"Over my dead body, you Sidhe scum!" snapped the captain of the "Free Wind," apparently recognizing the speaker in the mist.
"That was rude," came from the haze, and a ball of silvery light immediately hit Lil Rou in the forehead. The captain of the junk silently collapsed on the deck.
At that very moment, the rest of the crew laid down their weapons and raised their hands. The mage passenger did the same. Only I remained in a combat stance.
"How fascinating," said the voice from the mist, and its owner took a step forward.
Tall as Ender, slender as a reed, and fluid as if he were raised by cats, the exquisitely dressed Ruby mage, garbed in the latest fashion of Pentapolis, looked at me intently. He was beautiful. Extremely so. Incredibly beautiful for a human. But he wasn't human. He was a Sidhe half-blood.
An elf.
"Raven from Seattle, I presume?" he asked me.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
"Maestro Larindel, I presume?" I replied, not breaking eye contact.
"Will you accept my invitation to board the 'Defector' and be my guest for three weeks?" His eyes focused on me like laser sights but didn't seem offended by my mockery.
"And what if I refuse?"
"I would be very disappointed to have wasted several days and missed out on a lucrative deal," He meant I would likely be killed if I refused.
I lowered my spear and smiled.
"My story comes at a high price!"
"Oh!" The elf returns my smile. "The whole 'Defector' is the payment!" He quickly adds, "For three weeks, of course."
"Deal!" I nodded towards the passenger tent. "I'll get my things. Quickly."
I didn't need to spend time packing. In less than a minute, I was back on the deck.
"Follow me," the Sidhe half-blood nodded at me, and when I stood next to him, he turned to the first mate of the "Free Wind." "Your people are alive. I'm keeping them afloat. The mist will soon clear, and you can easily get them on board. And by the way! I am not a pirate! Tell your captain when he comes to his senses that he owes me for the insult inflicted."
Without bothering to wait for an answer, Larindel stepped into the mist, and I followed him. The nearly impenetrable haze obediently parted before the elf and then enveloped everything again as soon as we walked a little further. The mist behaved like a living creature, though it certainly was not. A faint smell of vanilla gently tickled my nose; apparently, the mage passenger was right, and this magic was the product of alchemy because pure magic rarely has a distinct scent.
The mist enveloped the entire trade junk from bow to stern. When we reached the port side, the Sidhe half-blood took a long step and disappeared from my field of vision into the haze for a moment. I hurried after him and was met by the sight of the "Defector."
The ship, famous for its speed, was not as grand as I had imagined. With the sides being of the same height, it was a third shorter and almost twice as narrow as the "Free Wind." The mist did not obscure it at all, and I was able to take a good look at it while jumping from one vessel to the other.
Ender had vividly described how fast and beautiful Maestro Larindel's ship was, so I couldn't help but expect something akin to a tea clipper. Something just as swift, weightless, and beautiful. In reality, the "Defector" resembled the early caravels and strongly reminded me of the "Santa Maria," Columbus' flagship. Although the "Santa Maria" was not a caravel but a carrack, I am no Flavius, and my knowledge of ships is too mediocre to make an accurate verdict. High sides, two towering masts carrying square sails, the third one in the rear being almost half their height and given over to a lateen sail. The characteristic shape of the ship was also emphasized by the bow, which was raised high relative to the sides, and a stern that seemed excessively heavy for a vessel of this size. Yes, compared to the junks of the archipelago, the "Defector" indeed looked like a swift alien, but I was somewhat disappointed as I had expected more.
As soon as my foot touched the carrack's deck, a short but sharp order rang out. The planks creaked underfoot, and the ship rocked gently; apparently, we had cast off from the "Free Wind." My guess was immediately confirmed as we began to distance ourselves from the junk's side. The small crew of the "Defector" carried out a series of actions that I didn't quite understand with precision and coordination. Without any orders or directions from their captain, each sailor knew what to do precisely. What united everyone on board were satisfied smiles; the crew clearly enjoyed this peculiar form of boarding.
Almost as soon as we had cast off, the topsail on the foremast unfurled and immediately filled with the fresh morning breeze, causing the carrack to pick up speed steadily. While I observed all this, Maestro Larindel studied me with equal curiosity.
"I see a hint of condemnation in your eyes," he finally said when the "Defector" had moved about fifty meters away from the junk, which remained covered by the mist.
"Why?" I asked, turning to the elf. "You could have simply approached and asked me to come aboard," I wave my hand, "Without all these theatrics."
"And deprive myself of such entertainment?!" the Ruby mage replied with an unmistakable smirk on his beautiful face.
As he spoke, I examined him more closely, paying more attention not to his appearance but to his clothes and equipment. He was richly dressed, but I was more interested in his gear. Across his chest, hanging by his neck, was an unusual chain composed of small glass spheres of different colors linked together. There were at least three dozen of them, and each was an alchemical equivalent of a grenade but with varying properties. Also, on the elf's clearly artifact belt were sheaths carrying a lightweight eastern sword, a jian. And behind the half-blood was a short battle mage staff in a richly decorated cover. The color of the stone at its top told me that air was the primary element this elf commanded. His clothing was also imbued with magic, and the elegant-looking doublet likely offered protective properties comparable to my chainmail.
"Entertainment?" I clarified. I needed to understand who I was dealing with and conduct my conversation accordingly.
"I've heard rumors that the captain of the 'Free Wind' insults me behind my back," the elf spread his arms. "Which was confirmed by his direct insult today. So, it's entertainment for me and a lesson for him." The Sidhe half-blood snapped his fingers. "And if Master Rou does not take this lesson to heart, the next time we meet at sea will not end so favorably for him and his ship."
"You will sink them," I said.
"I will sink them," Larindel confirmed without hesitation, completely calm, as if we were discussing the weather.
Having said this, the elf took a smooth gliding step forward and seemed to loom over me. There was no threat in his gaze, only boundless, fervent inhuman curiosity.
"Tell me this is not another drunken prank of your mentor," his eyes were a storm of emotions. "Show me!"
"What, you won't even feed me first?" I couldn't just give in to his pressure immediately; I needed to set boundaries.
The expression on the elf's face changed. Instead of the facade of good nature, a shadow passed over the beautiful features, and his pupils took on the color of night, which made the captain of the "Defector" even more stunning as the darkness of his gaze provided a striking contrast with his almost perfectly white long hair. I forced myself not to look away. Our duel of glances lasted for a minute. And when I felt that he would give in after one more second, I turned away and said guiltily, looking at the deck:
"I'm really hungry."
Winning a duel of glances wasn't worth angering the Ruby mage. Elves primarily follow their feelings and moods and only then their reason. And even though Maestro Larindel was at least a century old, his impulsiveness could easily surpass that of a teenager in puberty.
"Oh!" The half-blood stepped back, his cheeks flushing. "My apologies."
He snapped his fingers, and a young boy, not even fourteen, ran up to us.
"Arrange breakfast in my quarters." The elf commanded.
"Yes, my captain!" The cabin boy responded cheerfully and immediately disappeared into the stern superstructure.
"While we wait," the half-blood turned back to me, "Would you like to get acquainted with the 'Defector'?"
"With great pleasure." I was genuinely interested.
"Leave your belongings right on the deck," he nodded. "They will be taken to your cabin, which the crew is preparing for you at this very moment."
Following his advice, I left everything by the side, taking only the sheathed spear.
"On this deck, nothing threatens you, Mr. Raven," said the elf with a slight smile on his face and nodded towards the weapon in my hands.
"I am not concerned for my safety while being your guest, Maestro Larindel," I responded as politely as possible. "It's about the tip," I lay my hand on the sheath, "if you don't mind?"
"Of course!" A new spark of curiosity flashed in the half-blood's eyes.
I unsheathed the tip and handed the spear to the elf. He took the weapon cautiously as if fearing a trap. Judging by his character, he must have plenty of enemies, so I can easily understand his paranoia, especially knowing that all half-bloods are quite suspicious by nature. Larindel's graceful fingers ran down the shaft, and I noticed his facial expression changing, taking on sad, even mournful features.
"It's been a long time," he whispered. "A very long time since I last held Tal wood in my hands."
Oh! I messed up! Reminding an elf of the hidden forests! That was never a good idea. Humans fear and hate Sidhe. But human fear and hatred are just a fleeting echo of the storm of emotions that elves feel towards the pureblood Sidhe. To my relief, Larindel turned out to be very restrained for a half-blood. He didn't even throw the spear overboard, which he could have done and would have been within his rights. Instead, the elf focused his attention on the tip.
"Dark obsidian," the Ruby mage clicked his tongue. "Affinity with Fire and Shadow. The craftsmanship is on the level of Deytran or Sun City guilds. The work of Master Laoy, I presume?"
"You have a keen eye," I give him credit. "You are right: Master Laoy crafted the tip."
"Interesting, but an 'empty' weapon," the elf gave his verdict, then returned the spear to me, and I immediately sheathed it.
By "empty," he likely meant that it was not an artifact and no permanent enhancements were placed on it.
"As soon as your cabin is ready, I recommend leaving your weapon there," he shrugged. "Walking around the deck with a spear in your hands is not always a good idea. Especially in rough seas."
With a slight bow, I acknowledged that I heard and understood what was said.
The elf gave me a friendly smile and took me on a small tour of the "Defector." Flavius would have probably loved it, but I got lost in all the jargon about jibs, mainsails, mizzens, topsails, and booms within the first two minutes. However, I did manage to remember where the cabins and the kitchen, or rather the galley, were located.
What pleased me the most about this tour was that Larindel's ship was literally gleaming with cleanliness. Everything that could be scrubbed was scrubbed, and everything that should be polished sparkled brightly. It was clear that the half-elf kept his crew on their toes, not allowing them to slack off.
We were leisurely strolling on the deck when the familiar cabin boy appeared in front of us and, bowing deeply, announced:
"Breakfast is ready, my captain."
With a casual wave of his hand, the elf dismissed the boy, turned to me, and asked:
"So! Where would you like to go, Mr. Raven?"
"Me? I would like to go to breakfast!" I declared with confidence and the most uncompromising tone. In response, the eyes of the Ruby mage seemed to turn bloodshot, and I hurriedly added, "As for the 'Defector,' we are heading to the island of Quad."
The elf's light, pure, incredibly melodious, carefree laughter echoed over the sea.
"You definitely have my liking, Mister Raven!" said Maestro Larindel after laughing and wiping away the tears with a silk handkerchief. "Please, follow me."